


Through Galaxies Far

by myshipsaresunk



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars: Clone Wars (2003) - All Media Types
Genre: AU, Enemies to Friends
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-30
Updated: 2019-06-03
Packaged: 2019-09-30 12:39:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,107
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17224247
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/myshipsaresunk/pseuds/myshipsaresunk
Summary: "I'd rather die," he replies, though his voice is shaking and his lip is quivering. A tear tracks its way down his ugly face. He's so weak, I think. And foolish. He's willing to sacrifice his life for his ego.Weak people make me angry. Weak people are the reason I'm here today. I was once weak, but no longer. I made myself strong, rose above everyone around me. And today I'm really not feeling second chances. But who am I kidding? I never give second chances. It's not the Sith way."That can be arranged," I snap, and I twirl my lightsaber quickly and deftly. A second later I step over his dismembered body, not a single regret in my mind.//Before Maul, Darth Sidious had a different apprentice. Minerva isn't like the other Sith, though. Shunned by her old master and all alone in the galaxy with only the company of her droid, she makes her own adventures. But there are some things even she can't run from: her past, and her destiny.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: All rights belong to Disney, George Lucas, and all the men and women that created the Star Wars movies, books, and comics. I take no credit, and I do not mean to break any copyright rules. This is simply a work of fiction made for enjoyment. No money is being made. The cover art image belongs to peanutbutterroastedchestnuts. tumblr .com (remove the spaces)
> 
> Rating: T for violence, disturbing imagery, and dark themes
> 
> Author's Note: This is my first Star Wars fanfiction, and I am very excited about it. It follows the live-action movie canon only, though I make mentions and bring in characters from the books/comics/animated series. When I incorporate those, I'll make sure to explain/describe it in a way that you don't need to see/read them to understand. The only movie canon thing I'm making AU is that Darth Maul is the second Sith to be seen in a thousand years, not the first. Everything else follows as far as I know. If I do mess something up or make a mistake, please point it out politely since I've already spent hours of research and writing on this piece to make it as unique and precise as possible, but sometimes things get confused in my mind.
> 
> That being said, this story is about the Sith aprentice before Darth Maul, and it is set up in a TV show episode format where almost every chapter is a new adventure with one or two bigger and ongoing plots eventually being introduced. As for characters, Minerva is the main one, and this is narrarated from her point of view, but as I'm Obi-Wan Kenobi trash he and Qui-Gon Jinn will be main characters once Minerva is established. 
> 
> I want to mention now that there is some mention of abuse, suicide, and somewhat graphic violence. If that will bother you, then please don't read this story.
> 
> I've already completely written this story so no need to worry about it not being finished. It's about 120,000 words long and 29 chapters.
> 
> Special thanks to my amazing friend and beta Vika, who has put in a lot of time and work into this story also, and continues to be my sounding board and constructive critic. I'd probably have quit writing this without her support and ideas.

**Setting:** 7 years before The Phantom Menace. BBY stands for Before the Battle of Yavin, which occurs during the original Star Wars trilogy. Like BC, it counts down.

**Chapter 1**

**Outer Rim Territories, Arkanis Sector, Tatoo System, 39 BBY**

"How much?" The voice comes from a nasty creature, one so ugly even his mother couldn't call him handsome. Large scales cover his body, and a long, thick tail pops out the back. The species is instantly recognizable - Barabel.

"Aren't you loyal to the Jedi?" I ask, fixing my orange-yellow eyes on his green ones. "Shouldn't you be chasing down some fresh meat or something?"

He grins, his sharp teeth flashing. "I work for the Hutt family." Quickly appraising me up and down, he smacks his wide lips and speaks again. "So, how much are you? Jabba's looking for some, shall we say, new entertainment."

I roll my eyes; it really had been a mistake to come to Tatooine. Sure, some of the best pod races in the galaxy are held here, but this is Hutt family home base. Meaning, of course, that the worst pimps in the galaxy come from here. If Jabba doesn't get his sexy entertainment, then you really don't want to be within two systems of this place.

Turning my gaze back to my drink, I pick up the cup by the top, twirl the liquid around a few times, tip my head back and swallow it all. I don't have to look at the Barabel to tell that he had watched every move like a hawk, from my blood red manicured fingernails to my peach-colored lips. Usually I'm quite proud of my beauty, but there are times - like today - that it brings unwanted attention.

Though, I could make the best out of this bad situation. I don't want to think about all the young girls in the past who had sat at this very table hearing his very offer and taking it up, knowing that the money they'll earn from it might keep their families alive just a little longer. They signed away their bodies, knowing full well that once Jabba became bored with them they'd be fed to to his pet monster. It's cruel and inhumane, even from my perspective. It sounds like something my old master would do, but I think even he's above that.

I raise an eyebrow at the guy, knowing I'm going to have to stop this. "How much are you offering?"

"Fifty-thousand Wuipiupi," he answers, taking a large money bag out of his pocket and jangling it. He is taking the bait, hook, line, and sinker.

"No republic credits?" I question. He shakes his head.

"But these are used by all the market traders," he insists. "Very valuable. Jabba is being very generous." Generous? More like desperate. I keep my face passive for show.

"Okay. But let's do the trade somewhere more private. You're giving me a lot of money, and it would be a shame if I was mugged before I made it out of the door." He nods in agreement and we slip out of the bar, walking to the shadows of a building on the outskirts of town. No one is in sight, which is perfect. I don't like witnesses.

"What's your name?" he asks as we stand in the heat. "And before we finalize this, can you take off your robes? I just need to make sure you don't have three arms. Jabba doesn't like extra limbs." Classic excuse, really. But if he wants a view, I'm going to give him one he won't ever forget.

"I'm Minerva," I answer, shucking off the black outer robes and letting them flutter to the sandy ground. A flourish, I know, but that's just my style. Beneath them I'm wearing a short black skirt, a red top that covers my chest and not much more with straps criss-crossing my bare midriff to the top my skirt, black combat boots that come halfway up my shins, and a black leather belt around my skirt that holds my beloved weapon.

"You're - you're a Jedi?" the Barabel stutters after he catches a glimpse of the sheathed weapon. Suddenly he's torn between his loyalty to the Hutts and his race's respect to the Jedi.

"No - " I flash him a sweet smile, and he tosses me the bag of money. I catch it easily with one hand, and he turns around.

"Meet me here in an hour and I'll take you to your new work. If you're not here I will find you."

" - I'm much, much, worse," I continue, my voice still sweet, but my eyes narrowing. He turns around at the sound of my weapon turning on, and the red glow of my two-sided lightsaber is reflected in his eyes. "I'm a Sith."

The fear in his eyes couldn't be more pronounced. He's frozen in place, his eyes glued to my dangerous weapon. I take a step forward, and he finally has the courage to move. "Keep the money, please. I - I won't make you come."

"Apologize to me," I order with a hard voice, and I see his eyes narrow. Barabels consider apologies to be insulting. He's mad now, a big mistake on his part.

"No," he says clearly. "I will not."

"Yes, you will. You will apologize for every single girl that ever stepped foot in Jabba the Hutt's palace, and for every single one whose bones lay scattered in the dust at the bottom of the Rancor's lair, picked clean and forgotten." My anger is flaring up a little. Too much. I need to calm down inside, but I still need to keep up the scary face for him on the outside. "You will apologize on behalf of every single one of Jabba's slaves that go out and buy women, and especially the ones that steal women. You will apologize now!"

"I'd rather die," he replies, though his voice is shaking and his lip is quivering. A tear tracks its way down his ugly face. He's so weak, I think. And foolish. He's willing to sacrifice his life for his ego.

Weak people make me angry. Weak people are the reason I'm here today. I was once weak, but no longer. I made myself strong, rose above everyone around me. And today I'm really not feeling second chances. But who am I kidding? I never give second chances. It's not the Sith way.

"That can be arranged," I snap, and I twirl the lightsaber quickly and deftly. Both blades of my weapons hit him, whirling in a circle like a pinwheel, and he falls over, severed in half. Retracting my weapon and using the force to summon my long black robes, I quickly put myself back together as I step over his body. As I'm about to step back into the main streets, I remember I'm still clutching the bag of money in my hand. I toss it onto his dead body and the coins scatter on his corpse.

"Was what little honor you had left really worth it?" I question softly before turning around and leaving, not a single regret in my mind.

**Outer Rim Territory, Unknown Sector, Anthan System, 50 BBY**

_The rain pounds against the tin roof, and the thunder and lightning chase each other across the sky. I like it when it storms. It feels like a reflection of my soul and my mind, all those thoughts and emotions swirling around in chaos. My head always hurts, and I can never sort things out, just like you can never dry yourself while standing in the rain._

_The noise also helps drown out the sounds of the shouting and the yelling, and sometimes the crying. It shuts out the sound of slaps and hits, of pain and anger and misery. The sound of suffering which always seems to surround me. Which seem to be a part of me._

_I climb into the windowsill, my coarse blanket wrapped around my lower body and my small pillow clutched to my chest. I press my fingertips to the window, wishing I could sink into the glass, to disappear, and never return. Deep down I want to help, I want to throw my own words into the shouting match and tell them all off, but I'm not brave enough. I would flinch as a hand is raised, even without it being aimed towards me. And even without hearing the specific words of the argument, tears are already streaking down my face as if to reflect the sky._

_There's the sound of padding feet, and a figure sits across from me in the other corner of the windowsill. It's my brother. He sees my tears, and he leans forward to grab my hand. "It's okay," he tells me. "I'm always going to be with you. We'll get through this together. I promise."_

_He leaves, probably to go comfort our sister, who I can hear crying in the room over. I lean my head against the cool glass and exhale deeply, thinking of my brother's words. My breath creates a circle of white on the glass, and stare at it as the edges shrink up and eventually it disappears. It isn't strong enough to stand on its own, not without help. Just like me. I don't have to be alone, though. My brother's with me, and he always will be, because he and I both know that by myself I can't do anything except hide._

**Outer Rim Territories, Arkanis Sector, Tatoo System, 39 BBY**

I enter the stands as the pod race begins. Toydarians are packed like sardines all around me, their little wings beating frantically to keep them aloft, their yellow eyes bugging out in excitement. Long snouts and ugly teeth wrap up the package. Yeah, no way I'm going to sit with them. 

Jabba the Hutt has a personal little stand area with the best view, so I use a series of force jumps to make it up. He doesn't turn for the longest time, his eyes glued on the race. I stand next to him, a hand on my hip in impatience. I hope he sees me soon, because it is really hot out here. Long black robes look cool, but they don't breathe one bit. 

When he finally sees me he's taken aback. He yells something to his albino Twi'lek assistant, but I check my nails in a bored manner. If there's one thing Jabba likes, it's attention and reactions. Neither of which I'm giving to him. 

"He wants to know why you're here," the assistant says to me. His voice seriously sounds like a snake's. It's actually kind of creepy and gross. Scratch that. His assistant is all-around gross. I guess they make quite the dynamic duo. Fat and Gross. Ugly and Albino. I could make up names all day, but there's more exciting action going on. 

"A girl can't watch a pod race around here?" I reply innocently, watching a pod smash another one into the side of a cliff. The assistant's red eyes narrow before translating it back to Jabba. I turn back to the race again, just in time to see the same bully pod crash itself. Serves him right. Other that though, today isn't that great of a race. One guy is ahead of everyone else by about half a lap, and unless he wipes out no one else has a pod fast enough to catch him. I'm a big fan of the underdog racer who has all the odds stacked against him but still manages to overcome the pack leader. 

"Jabba says Tatooine is one of the most dangerous places for a single girl on her own. He asks if you know about the human trafficking business that the Toydarians run." Again with the underestimating. This is starting to drive me crazy. Girls aren't always damsels in distress. We can take care of ourselves. 

"Do they really?" I question, a hint of accusation coloring my tone. "Or does he mean his human trafficking business?" 

Jabba lets out an enraged sound, and I roll my eyes. "Stop being such a drama queen. One of your Barabel slaves paid me fifty thousand Wuipuipi to be your new entertainment. 

"Jezza?" Jabba asks. I reply by shrugging. 

"He didn't give me his name. And he refused to apologize. So I killed him." My voice is nonchalant and I turn back to the race after delivering those lines, knowing my actions will drive the Hutt crazy. As per usual, I'm not wrong. Jabba screams something along the lines of "Capture her!" He calms down about one notch and then demands that I become his new entertainment (good luck with that one. I'd rather die). His servants are on me in a minute, but I don't react until one of them touches me. 

In a second I reach into my black robes, grab my lightsaber, open up one blade, and swing it in an arc. Several bodies fall, and the others cower in the far side of the room, a safe distance from my weapon. 

"Jedi scum," I hear Jabba curse. 

"For the last time!" I exclaim, pointing to my lightsaber. "That is red! Red means Sith! I'm a bad guy. Please. It's actually quite insulting to call me a Jedi." All they do is cower behind politics and agonizingly slow decision making. I actually live in the now, changing things as I deem fit. 

"Get rid of her!" Jabba shouts, deciding that Sith must be just as bad as Jedi. I sigh and extend my lightsaber by turning the other side on and then I point the whole thing at him. He quiets suddenly. 

"Thought so," I mutter to myself. He's a coward, just like all of his servants. "So, Jabba, who's the pod racer that's winning?" I close my lightsaber blades but keep the handle in sight as a silent threat. 

The abrupt change in conversation takes Jabba off-guard, but he signals his translator forward and murmurs in the guy's ear. The Twi'lek looks over at me. "His name is Sebulba. He's a Dug from Malastare. He's new here, but not new enough to have his cheating ways escape our notice." 

Jabba lets out a disgruntled noise. "I take that to mean he didn't bet on him," I say to the assistant. Now that I think about it, he looks oddly familiar...perhaps his name is Bib Fortuna, but I've met a lot of Twi'leks in my travels, so I'm not sure, but I'll go with it. 

"No, he didn't," Bib Fortuna agrees. "He's losing quite a fortune, too." 

I scan the room, my eyes settling on someone I had caught a glimpse on earlier. "Who's he?" 

Bib and Jabba turn to look at the boy huddling in the corner. He's absolutely filthy, but I can still tell he's very young. "That's one of Jabba's slaves. We found him wandering around the desert near the palace. He would be dead without Jabba's unending kindness." 

Jabba being kind? Please. Bib Fortuna is such a suck-up. But I guess you kind of have to be if you want to stay in Jabba's good graces. What little of them he has, of course. 

"Who is the one who bet on Sebulba?" I question, the boy in the corner of my eyes still. 

"Some Toydarian scum," Jabba grunts, pointing him out. A plan is formalized in my mind. 

"I'll make you a deal," I say to him. Both the Hutt and the Twi'lek lean forward, eager to hear my offer. "I'll convince the human to let you keep your money, but in exchange I want the boy." 

Jabba nods his fat face up and down quickly. He's so easy to bargain with it's actually quite sad. I like challenges, and I like excuses to whip out my lightsaber or use the force, and I like showing off. Easy is boring. 

"I'm not coming back, but I'll keep my end of the deal." I tuck my lightsaber back under my robes before walking over to the boy and pulling on his arm. "Come on. We're getting out of here." 

I'm not kind, nor am I gentle, but the boy looks up at me like I'm some kind of hero. Great. I really am not. I'm a Sith...a Sith that feels bad for enslaved children. It's a weakness, I know, but one that's not entirely bad. It brings out the humanity in me, the humanity that my old master lacks. It's why I couldn't stay with him. I'm all for fighting Jedi and other people who do shady business or get in my way, but not children. 

"Thank you," the boy says quietly as we climb down the ladder to exit Jabba's stands. I shrug it off, knowing I'm not really worthy of his thanks. I'm just a powerful girl who travels around the galaxy, fighting for justice as I feel fit, whether it's freeing child slaves or killing people who do things I don't like. I'm not trying to be a good person, and I'm not trying to make this world a better place. I'm just making the most out of my life by adventuring around and occasionally (well, I'll admit, it's more like often) upsetting the Jedi order. 

I find the Toydarian Jabba owes money to, and I instruct the boy to hide out of side. Really, though, I just don't want him to see what I'm about to do. I take the native Tatooinian by his arm and forcefully drag him to an abandoned area behind the stands. The fear in his eyes as he begs for mercy doesn't even touch my soul. "Jabba doesn't owe you any money," I say, looking him straight in the eyes, trying to use the force. It's a long shot, though, since Toydarians have a natural resistance. 

"I need that money," he insists. I don't have time nor the patience to deal with his crap. Just by looking at his fine clothes and clean appearance I can tell he doesn't need any money. He's wealthy without it. 

"I really don't like liars," I reply, pulling out my lightsaber and finishing him off quickly. He really is Toydarian scum, just like Jabba had said. Rich people who always need more money get on my nerves more than anything else. If you're already privileged, why not help others instead of collecting more? Then again, Jabba is the same type of scum. He probably has a dozen fortunes to gamble off. 

Heading back the way I came, I find the boy. He's quiet as I lead him to my aircraft, a MagnaGuard Fighter. It's a new model, one I've taken directly from the workshop it was built in. The design hadn't quite been perfected, but I'd adjusted a few things on my own to make it unique, such as building in a seat on the outside to put my astromech droid in. Even as we approach, KZ-4 beeps a welcome, but I ignore him. He's used to it by now. 

"Where are you from?" I ask boy as we climb in the cockpit. 

"Bespin," he replies. "Cloud city, to be exact. My father's a senator." 

"How'd you end up on Tatooine, then?" I question, looking at him from the corner of my eye as I prep the starship for flight. 

"I was kidnapped as a political hostage," he replies. "And then they crashed here and died, leaving only me left alive. But you saved me, so I'm okay now." I take off and we fly in silence for a short while. He's the one to speak again. "I'm called Isaiah." 

"I'm Minerva." The conversation dies again, but the boy is persistent. "Why aren't you a Jedi?" 

"Because I'm not a good person," I answer shortly, not wanting to get into the specifics. Isaiah doesn't get the clue, though. 

"But you saved me. That's something good people do." 

"I do more bad things than good things," I say slowly. "And even if I was a good person, I wouldn't want to be a Jedi." 

"Why not? They get to explore the galaxy and battle bad guys and fly all sorts of starships…" he trails off, the look in his eyes wistful. "I wish I was a Jedi." 

"They spend too much time focusing on diplomatic solutions and lounging around the council room fighting each other," I inform him. "They talk too much and don't take action often enough. I have all the same powers as they do, but none of the restrictions. I do whatever I want, whenever I want. Saving you, for example. The Jedi wouldn't deem you important enough to risk their fighters for, or they would talk up Jabba until he sent them down to his Ranchor, whereas I was able to quickly make a deal with him the Jedi would consider under-the-table, and therefore not legal." 

Isaiah is silent for a long moment. "I think I want to be like you when I grow up," he finally remarks. My head whips up quickly, catching the look of admiration in his eyes. 

"Never say that," I order harshly. "That's not what I was trying to tell you. The Jedi are good guys, yes, but there's more to them than just swinging their lightsabers around. And I'm a bad guy who does nothing but swinging my lightsaber around." 

"My father always has wanted me to go into politics," the boy tells me. "Sometimes politics are confusing. The good guys can be bad, and the bad guys can be good. What do you think of it?" 

The change in topic makes me take a moment to think. "My old master wields politics as a weapon even greater than my lightsaber or the force. He makes people think he's good, but really they're just helping him further his evil plans. I think politics are important to people who are in power, but people like me don't deal in politics. I make decisions on the fly, and most of them make no sense. It just depends on what you're good at." 

Isaiah thinks over my words for a while. "I don't want to be a Jedi anymore. I wouldn't be good at it. I overthink things and feel too much. My father was right." He beams up at me. "Thanks for helping me." 

On the outside I smile tightly and nod. On the inside I curse myself for being a good person at times. Once you start being good, you get a good reputation and then people are disappointed when you make a mistake. When you're bad, people don't assume much of you, and it's easy to maintain a constant reputation. And currently I have a reputation for being a vigilante Sith who doesn't care how she accomplish things, and has a pretty high body count to my name. I wouldn't want to spoil that just because I saved a helpless little boy once. 

"Just don't mention it again." 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: All rights belong to Disney, George Lucas, and all the men and women that created the Star Wars movies, books, and comics. I take no credit, and I do not mean to break any copyright rules. This is simply a work of fiction made for enjoyment. No money is being made. The cover art image belongs to peanutbutterroastedchestnuts. tumblr .com (remove the spaces)

Chapter 2

**Outer Rim Territories, Anoat Sector, Bespin System, 39 BBY**

Bespin is a beautiful planet with many freedoms - hugely popular with those escaping the turmoil of the senate and other affairs going on in the galaxy. Like Tatooine, it's located in the Outer Rim - a safe haven of sorts. Unlike Tatooine, though, it's much nicer in every single way. A respectable planet I've always dreamed of visiting.

One unique thing about it, though, is that there's only one inhabitable area, and that's in the sky. Cloud City is indeed located in the clouds - fancy that - and it possesses a staggering but breathtaking view. Isaiah perks up as it comes into view, and he starts bouncing his leg in excitement. The entire mood lifts on both our parts. I wonder how long he's been separated from his family.

Parking in an open spot just on the outskirts of the city, I can't keep up with Isaiah's excited jog as he leads his way through the city. I realize he hadn't been lying about his father being a senator when I see his house with a swimming pool out back, a rare luxury for those living in Cloud City.

A row of algal trees tower over us on either side of the walk leading up to the grand house. Schools of the rainbow-colored air shrimp fly around in the canopies, dispersing color to the area. Blue and red Rawwks fly past as well, chasing the flying shrimp and eating them when they catch the smaller species. The air positively vibrates with the activity of the native fauna, something most other planets lack. Under Cloud City, in the inhabitable area of the planet, there are many other different types of fauna to be seen. Maybe I'll fly through it when I leave.

Isaiah walks straight through the unlocked front doors of the grand house. I'm about to make my escape when he grabs my hand and drags me with him. I think about running, but he looks up at me with those wide blue eyes and I can't bring myself to do it. A few minutes won't hurt anyone, I suppose.

Inside the large living room are couches and imported rugs of all sorts of colors. Bright patterns are splashed everywhere, bringing life to the home. Isaiah pulls me through room after room of similar size and grandeur, and we only stop when we reach an outdoor balcony high in the air. He never slows down, not even after staircase after staircase. I'm starting to breathe a little harder, despite being in the best shape possible. Excitement does strange things.

Two adults, whom I assume to be his parents, are in deep conversation with someone I recognize immediately. Isaiah runs up to his mother and hugs her tight, and the conversation breaks off as the parents fawn over their returned son.

"What happened to you? How are you back with us? Who rescued you?" The questions keep coming, and Isaiah lays out his tale.

-

"... And then this wonderful and beautiful lady came to save me! She fought off Jabba the Hutt's slaves and bargained for my release! Then she flew me all the way back here to you!" The three adults turn to me, the two parents looking relieved and thankful, the other adult with his eyes narrowed. Isaiah's mother possesses the same trusting blue eyes as her son, but he looks more like his father, who exudes sophistication. I'm sure I've seen him before at a senate meeting.

I smile slightly, inwardly cursing the little whippersnapper for selling me out. I had specifically told him not to tell them about how I helped him! Luckily, I won't have to sit through a dinner while his parents keep telling me how thankful they are, because at the moment it looks like their friend is about to kill me.

Ah, yes. Their "friend". Also known as Quinlan Vos, a member of the Jedi order. He's known for his tracking abilities, and I'll bet Isaiah's father summoned him to search for his son. Fortunately for me, Quinlan Vos happens to be impulsive and doesn't always play by the rules. This isn't the first time we've had a run in, but I know he's probably been waiting for his chance to get back at me. Last time we'd met, I had told him things he didn't like… and I hadn't been nice about it, either.

His eyes are still narrowed, and the yellow stripe - called a qukuuf - running under his eyes and over the bridge of his nose seems a little squashed. His dreads are freshly done, and he actually looks only semi-caveman, surprisingly. He's a Kiffar, either from Kiffu or Kiffex. Never could remember exactly which, but it isn't that important to me. He does posses psychometric abilities, though, which are pretty rare, and account for his amazing tracking abilities.

"Sith," he hisses, a feat considering his deep voice. He really is one for introductions.

"What?" Isaiah's mother questions in surprise. "But she saved our son!"

"Only 'cause I thought I could get something out of it," I lie, hoping it saves my reputation. "Seems I was wrong." I cross my arms and smile in a wicked way. It achieves the desired effect.

Isaiah, of course, doesn't buy it, but that's okay. His parents do, and they react accordingly. His mother covers her mouth in shock and his father holds his son protectively to his front and his arms criss-crossed the boy's chest.

I roll my eyes at their defensive positions. "I don't kill children. But a Jedi...well, it will be a new experience."

Quinlan buys right into it, drawing his normal (and boring, in my opinion) green lightsaber. Quite the hero, isn't he? But I know his future. I sensed it the last time we fought. He'll end up learning the ways of the dark side of the force just like I did. Sure, he has almost two decades before it happens, but it is going to happen. Everything I see always comes to pass. The future is set in stone, and some people really don't like to believe that, Quinlan being one of them.

I sprint to the edge of the balcony, jump on the railing, and then jump off, using the momentum to propel myself across the yard. I hear gasps behind me, probably from Isaiah and his parents, but I know Quinlan isn't far behind. Landing on the next building, I continue to run, knowing I have to find a more secluded area to duel him. Innocent casualties are messy and unwanted, not to mention I don't want to get kicked off of Bespin forever. This is seriously one of the nicest planets I've ever visited.

There's a park not far from Isaiah's house, and at the moment there aren't too many residents around. I stand in the middle of it, shucking off my black robe and pulling out my lightsaber. The remaining civilians run at the sight of the red blade, and Quinlan lands in front of me with his green blade gripped tightly in his hands, his knuckles white from the strain. Most of the Jedi are good at controlling their emotions and attacking with calm and precise movements, but not him. He is full of emotions, and right now, anger is leading them. It's no wonder he'll eventually turn. Anger is the first step to the dark side and my master always told me.

"Ready to finish what we started?" I taunt him, twirling my blade in a showy manner. His fighting skills are still developing, and when you couple that with his rash anger, he's defeatable. I'm counting on those facts and his impulsiveness to make this a relatively easy fight.

I don't like easy, though, so I'll spice it up a little bit. 'Make some mistakes', if you know what I mean. He'll buy into it, of course. I'm a young girl who's in way over her head. What I'm more curious to know is whether he'll only ever see me as a Sith and try to dispose of me for good or if he'll have some mercy and decide to take me into Coruscant. I'll give him that, he does pose a mystery to me.

He makes the first move, lunging forward with his blade. I counter it with one of my blades, being careful to not let the other side push back. It would be quite embarrassing to cut off my leg on my own weapon. I push forward, forcing him to pull back his saber and take a step back. He jumps forward again, aiming for my collarbone. I deflect it easily, swinging the other side up towards his ribs. He jumps backwards, and I use the opportunity to advance, rotating my blades to set blow after blow upon him at a steady speed.

At this point, I know I can easily dispose of him, but what fun is that? He brings his lightsaber forward in a choppy manner, and I step back, hitting the buttons to retract the blades on my own weapon. I pretend to look at it in shock, as if he had just broken it.

"It's over," he commands, taking my bait and putting the blade up near my neck. I force my eyes to open wide and my mouth to quiver in fear.

"Please don't kill me," I sob, covering my face with my hands and dropping my 'broken' lightsaber. "I know I've made a mistake, but please, I'm too young to die! I'm just a poor, foolish girl! Please have mercy on me." I know I'm laying it on thick, but he's buying it. It's all I can do not to laugh.

"Just a foolish girl, eh?" He snorts, raising his eyebrows and setting his jaw. His eyes squint and I almost read his mind. He's going to monologue. Seriously? I have a million other places to travel to before I die, and any of them would be preferable to hear this. I don't have time for him to teach me the virtues of a Jedi life. Of course he doesn't hear my thoughts and takes a deep breath and continues. "You're a Sith with a reputation for violence! Maybe you should have thought twice about your life choices."

I blink. Yeah, I need to get out of here soon. I can just imagine my ship being stolen. Maybe instead of thinking about life choices I should have been thinking of locking it. If only Isaiah hadn't run off so fast...see, this is what you get for doing good things.

"It's too late now." Oh, the immeasurable drama. Wait, I think he's onto me. Note to self: don't roll your eyes in front of Quinlan Vos. Actually, scratch that - don't roll your eyes in front of any Jedi that you're trying to lie to; most of them are smart enough to catch it, but luckily for me Quinlan is too preoccupied with acting fierce. For a moment I believe he really is going to kill me. None of the other Jedi would, but I don't put it past him.

The only way to beat drama is to be more dramatic. Let's pull the it's-my-master's-fault card. "It's my master!" I cry harder. "He makes me do awful things. I can't escape his control! You're the only one who can help me!"

His lightsaber lowers an inch, and it wavers slightly. He's debating my words, just as I had predicted. "Controlling you, huh? What about last time we met?" He doesn't seem convinced, as evidenced by his added words: "You were completely different. Confident. Powerful."

"He was controlling me back then," I say softly, adding in a gulp for extra measure. "But you've changed, too." The last time we had met he had been even more sarcastic than I. Now he's watered down, and actually kind of scary. Had I ruined his life by telling him his future? I need to stop doing that. From now on, I'll only tell futures if I need to use it as a bargaining tool for something. Sure, Quinlan had been the one to ask about what I'd seen, but he wasn't and still isn't ready for that.

"Maybe I'm only different around you, because you were the one who was spouting all that prophecy crap about me learning the dark side of the force! That's a serious accusation, and I don't take lightly."

 _Not like you were the one who searched half of the galaxy just to ask me about it,_ I think to myself, but I don't say it aloud. He's starting to annoy me, and all this talk is starting to make my head spin. His lightsaber has moved a safe distance away, and I throw my hand out, using the force to make him fly backwards. He hits a tree and crumples to the ground, and I summon my lightsaber up to my hand and proceed to toss it back and forth between my hands. My expression changes from the tearful one to my normal no-business face. "Nice chat, but I'm tired of it. Maybe the next time we fight you'll actually be a challenge."

Quinlan groans and pulls himself up, but he's still a little dizzy. He must have hit his head hard. I don't feel a bit of remorse. As he's struggling to his feet I reach down and pick up the bundle of black robes. The temperature of Bespin is hot, but not as much as Tatooine, and I'd actually been relieved to be rid of the heavy garments for a while. Sweat not only smells bad, but is pretty inconvenient when you live on a starship and don't know when or where your next shower might be.

"I'm going to kill you," he threatens, regaining his composure and starting up his lightsaber again. Again with the theatrics. (But who am I to talk? I live my whole life with that extra flair).

"Come fight me when you've grown up a little," I call back, tucking my lightsaber into my belt and strolling away. He charges up behind me, ready to impale me in cold blood, but I casually turn and hold him in a force choke for a few seconds. When I release him he falls to the ground, coughing, and I continue walking leisurely down the beautiful streets of Cloud City.

It's a nice day. I see more air shrimp flying around, their beautiful colors reflecting off of windows and metal objects. There are Humans and Ugnaughts alike walking through the streets, the Ugnaughts standing short but still proud with their pig-like snouts held high. I see a Twi'lek family walking past, a green baby Twi'lek in the stroller. I sense it's a girl, and that she's strong with the force. Soon she'll be in Jedi training, and she'll be an excellent Jedi Master until she gets betrayed by her own soldiers and shot down in cold blood. (Great way to ruin the mood).

I can hear Quinlan coming up behind me again. He's really starting to get on my nerves. I've never killed a Jedi before, but he's really starting to make me rethink that personal policy. Maybe I can just wound him really bad. Nah, I don't feel like it today. He stays a safe distance behind me, and I know he won't try anything as long as we're in public. He'll wait until we're isolated.

Well, too bad for him. My starship is parked in an open area. He sees me headed for the starships and catches up to me. His hand has a death grip on his lightsaber, but he keeps it hidden under his brown Jedi robes.

"You don't know when to give up, do you?" I question, casually hopping on the wing of my ship and sitting on it. My droid beeps a welcome, but again I ignore it, my attention on Quinlan. He stays on the ground, watching me closely.

"I don't get it. Why did you bring the kid back? You could have left him in Jabba's possession, or you could have resold him or stranded him in another system. Why did you bring him back to his parents?" Quinlan's line of questioning makes me instantly suspicious… of myself. Am I going soft?

"I know what it's like to have a rough childhood," I say, my tone even and relaxed. Well, I hope it comes across that way, at least. "I don't think any kid deserves that."

"Why are you a Sith?" His next question throws me off guard, but I don't hesitate to answer.

"Why are you a Jedi?" I shoot back. He thinks about it for a moment.

"Because I believe in fighting for what's right, and being a Jedi is a way to do that," he responds slowly. "I was gifted with being able to use the force, and I'm going to use that gift to help people."

"I too believe in fighting for what's right, but I guess my version of what's right is different than yours. And by being a Sith, I'm able to fight for it myself. One day you'll understand," I add in. He catches my subtle meaning.

"You weren't lying about me one day using the dark side of the force?"

"You are right to not take that lightly. I wasn't lying. One day you'll understand that the dark side is the only way to accomplish your goals. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have somewhere to go." I enter the cockpit of my ship, but before I close the door I hear him again.

"Where are you going?"

"Good question!" I shout back, starting up my engines.

"I sure hope you figure it out. Kiffu's always a great place!" he replies, a bit of his old humor coming back. That's the Quinlan I know, or at least closer to the one I knew.

A school of air shrimp scatter as my ship rises and then shoots off and away from Cloud City, leaving the blue skies and peaceful people far behind me.

"Me, too," I murmur. KZ-4 beeps me a message. "Is that so? Well, let's go there immediately."

**Outer Rim Territory, Unknown Sector, Anthan System, 50 BBY**

_I'm good at hiding. Hiding from my siblings, hiding from my parents. Hiding from the bullies at the academy. Hiding from the trouble I always find myself in. Hiding from my problems. Hiding from myself._

_My father always tells me that hiding is the art of a coward. I don't want to be a coward, but I am not strong enough to face the world on my own. I don't know how to be strong. All I know is how to be scared and small, how to curl up in a ball in avoid reality. It's much easier than trying to be strong and stick up for myself._

_Weakness is a trait I learned from my father. Cowardness I learned from my mother. Fear I learned from the bullies. Abandonment I learned from my siblings. Disappointment I am learning from myself._

_I need a teacher who can show me strength and confidence. Someone who can teach me to rise above my fears and restrictions. A person who understands what it is like to be this low, and how terrible it is. I need an instructor who will not let me down, someone who will teach me true power._

_I need a master who will teach me how to get what I want._


End file.
